Jack Vincent (
rockabillyboy) wrote2016-07-30 07:35 pm
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It's not quite daylight when he lets himself into Poison's apartment. He'd showered at the hotel, but he's still wearing last night's clothes, black t-shirt, jeans, boots. He drops his wallet and his keys on the counter and pads into the bathroom, brushing his teeth before he slips into the bedroom. Poison's there and Jack finds himself relieved, even though he doesn't know what he was expecting.
The bed gives slightly when he sits down to take off his boots.
The bed gives slightly when he sits down to take off his boots.
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Jack shakes his head, because that isn't what happened, is it? But he had said that. He remembers saying that.
"I'd..." He sighs. "I'd have said yes." His jaw tightens. "But I'd hate it."
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"If we'd negotiated, talked ahead of time, I could've handled this better. BUt it came out of nowhere, and this isn't shit you do spur of the moment. But I said you could, and you did, and I can't--" He feels like he can't be mad at Jack, as much as he wants to be.
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"I didn't plan on it," says Jack, and he hates the sullen sound of his voice right then. "I was just...we were hanging out, he was working, and..." He shrugs. "I don't know, Poison. But it happened. And I asked and I thought...I sincerely thought you were okay with it or I never would have gone."
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"I'm sorry I fucked up," says Jack, quietly, because, as far as he can see, none of this is actually Poison's fault. "Baby, please. C'mere and sit with me. Talk to me."
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"Then at least talk to me," says Jack, looking up at him. "Or...do you want me to go?"
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"Are we going to be okay?" asks Jack, his voice small and lost in his chest. "Because if I've fucked this up? If I've...broken it? I can't stand that, Poison. I can't live with that."
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"I love you," he says, quietly. "I love you more than anything."
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He nods without hesitation, squeezing Poison's arms gently. He's already sure it's not going to happen again; the night had been what it was but, mostly, it had underlined the fact that he just wanted the man in front of him. For better or worse.
"I'm sorry I made you feel like this, baby."
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He does pull Poison in closer then, tugging him in lightly against his chest.
"You know what I realise? That I don't want anyone but you and I don't have to be allowed to sleep around to prove that to myself." He sighs. "I just...I'm a fucking idiot. I don't know what I was thinking."
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"Don't do that," says Jack, shaking his head a little. He doesn't miss the fact that Poison doesn't relax in his arms. "Don't...give me a pass, okay? Don't excuse the fact that I did something so stupid." He frowns. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
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"Yeah."
He lets out a shuddering breath and pushes his fingers into Poison's hair, cradling the back of his head. "I never ever meant to hurt you."
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Poison hasn't slept all night, and he's pretty sure he's not going to sleep now.
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"I could eat," says Jack. His fingers flex at his side and he shoves his hands into his pockets just for something to do with them. "You want me to fix something for both of us?"
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He heads into the kitchen. He wants coffee, either way.
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"Tea would be really good," says Jack, following Poison out into the kitchen. He's tender in ways that just make him feel guilty at the moment, and he ignores it, making a beeline for the fridge. "I can do...hm. Something with eggs?"
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"Whatever you feel like."
He's not really that hungry, but he supposes it'll give them something to do, something else to focus on.
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What Jack feels like, right then, is shit, but he's got enough sense not to say that, because nobody made this bed but him. He nods, fetching the fixings for frittata out of the fridge. It'll take longer than scrambled eggs or omelettes, but he'd like something to do with his hands right then.
"Okay."
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